


I Think It's Gonna Be a Long, Long Time

by occamysRazor



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Can be seen as like a sexual assault thing but idk maybe that's just me, Drabble, Episode: s03e12-e13 The Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords, Minor Violence, Sentient TARDIS, TARDIS POV, The TARDIS got turned into a paradox machine and all she got was all this trauma, it's sad y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 02:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21228437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occamysRazor/pseuds/occamysRazor
Summary: How was the TARDIS feeling when she was a paradox machine? Spoilers: not great.





	I Think It's Gonna Be a Long, Long Time

**Author's Note:**

> I uhhhhhhhhhhh have a lot of feelings about the TARDIS and her relationship with the Doctor. They're all the other has.

The TARDIS is crying, and nobody can hear her.

She knows this, of course. She's well aware of the layers upon layers of dampening that have been put on her psychic relay. She knows _He_ did everything he could to stop her from reaching her Thief, or even Stubborn or Wrong. She can feel her pilot, at least, at the very edges of her reach. He's alive, and that has to be enough, for now. But he can't hear her.

Maybe she should take it as a blessing. She knows, if he heard her, his hearts would break even more. He loves her, after all, even after what she did to cause this. Didn't lock the door, didn't fight it, brought them to the end of the universe in the first place. It was her fault. If she had only seen this outcome, had somehow managed to do _something—_

Her vision wanders outside of the paradox, and she gets a floor-shuddering grab of pain for her trouble. The red of her console room grows brighter, almost blindingly so, until the pain passes and she turns back to the present. Not being able to look beyond, and at least see what might happen next, almost hurts more than being cannibalized in the first place. The paradox machine only works if she diverts energy to sustaining the paradox herself, so _He_ set in fail-safes that kept her focused on her task. Painful jabs at the center of her matrix, every time she tries to look to the Vortex. Every day that passes without contact with the Time Stream, the weaker she becomes and the harder it is to resist the pain. A vicious cycle. A self-fulfilling prophecy. Cannibalization.

Still, she reflects as the pain dulls, at least her Thief can't feel it.

Her door opens and she can't help the wave of nausea that rises as she feels _Him_ walk on-board. Here for his weekly gloat. His hand brushes her railing as he lopes down to the center console and his touch sends an ugly shudder through her core. She can't help but feel echoes of what he had done—_tugging pulling cutting sparks pain hurt wrong wrong WRONG_—and as if he can sense her discomfort, he grins.

"Here we are again, my horrible, beautiful creation." His words drip with sarcasm and madness, but it's not the same wonderful madness she can feel in her Thief. It's dark and designed to hurt. She lets out a mechanical groan.

_Please, please, just leave._

He laughs in delight. "You're doing a _marvelous_ job. No hiccups in sight!" He surges forward, grabs onto the cage surrounding her console. "I couldn't have done any of this without you, you know. The Doctor's TARDIS. His constant companion. His downfall. Of course, this would all be easier if you just _let me in..._"

She can feel him reaching out psychically, testing the bonds she has with her Thief, trying to tear him out and replace him. His energy is slimy and cold and sharp, probing and foreign. She recoils and sends as strong of a shock as she can muster, and feels some small pleasure as he winces. It doesn't last long.

He pulls back, laughing. "One day, creature. One day, you'll be too weak to stop me, and you'll be _mine._ And you'll find I'm a lot less _lenient_ when my tools don't obey me than your precious _Doctor._" He spits out her Thief's name as if it's poison on his tongue, and turns sharply to leave. "But that's quite alright. If this doesn't work out, you can just die with him, and see where your loyalty gets you both." He storms out and slams her door.

The relief only lasts a moment. Then the pain is back, and she cries out. Alone.


End file.
